


Adventures in Contact Lenses with Sōsuke Aizen

by DameOfNoDelicacy



Category: Bleach
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Contact Lenses, Crack, Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 12:00:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5665336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameOfNoDelicacy/pseuds/DameOfNoDelicacy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sōsuke Aizen, Lord of Hueco Mundo, struggles a li'l bit with his new look. A few of the Espada try to help.</p><p>Be warned, friends - this shit is fluffier than Renji's sexy bankai shawl and more cracked than Nel's hollow mask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adventures in Contact Lenses with Sōsuke Aizen

It was simply more than Sōsuke Aizen could bear.

He had always prided himself on being a man with extraordinary attention to detail and with exceptional skill when it came to executing the minutiae of physical activities, but this - _this_ was just ridiculous.

Aizen glared at the round, transparent, little object balancing on the tip of his forefinger.

He hated the damned thing. Hated it.

 _One more time_ , he thought to himself, and with his third finger and his thumb, he pried his right eyelid open. _Come on… Come ON! Almost… got… it…_

“Owwww,” moaned Aizen, clapping his hand over his eye as he blinked the contact lens into place. He stared at himself in the cracked mirror - cracked by choice, of course, to add some degree of ominous flair to his private chamber in Las Noches - and pouted. His right eye was tinged red around the edges. His face was streaked with tiny tear tracks. He did not look very scary or very Lord-of-Hueco-Mundo-y at all.

And he still had one more eye to go.

He was just about to forcibly jam the second contact lens into his left eye when he sensed a presence over his shoulder. “My lord,” came a quiet and silky-smooth voice from the entranceway.

Aizen turned, not entirely surprised. A white face framed by black hair and with big, unblinking green eyes popping out of it hovered in the corner of the room. “Ulquiorra,” said Aizen, more than a little peeved at having been interrupted in the middle of something so trying. “What is it?”

“The Espadas are all assembled as you commanded, my lord,” said Ulquiorra in that mildly irritating monotone of his. “We’ve been awaiting your arrival for some time.”

“I’ve encountered an unexpected delay,” growled Aizen, wrinkling his nose as he filled the dastardly lens up with a small amount of contact solution.

“Delay, my lord? Should we be concerned?”

“No,” said Aizen, still pouting. “I’ll be along shortly. Just - ”

“My lord.” Suddenly, Ulquiorra was at his left shoulder, glancing sidelong at the contact lens. “Is… is this the delay you spoke of?” He raised his black eyebrows - a considerable show of expression coming from the Fourth Espada, Aizen remarked ruefully.

“...yes, Ulquiorra, it is.”

“Perhaps - ”

“I believe that _I_ may be of some assistance in this troublesome situation!” came a vivid and flamboyant voice from the entranceway.

Aizen and Ulquiorra turned, not entirely surprised. There stood the impeccably dressed and pink-haired Szayel Aporro Granz, lounging luxuriously against the doorframe. “Tisk, tisk,” Szayel said, shaking his exquisitely groomed head. “Struggling with contact lenses, are we, my lord? Perhaps you ought not consider your body’s unfortunate requirement for visual assistance a curse, but rather, a _blessing!_ ” Szayel threw his head back and let out a series of high-pitched shrieks that were probably supposed to equate to laughter - given the circumstances, thought Aizen, it was a little bit much. “It means,” purred Szayel, sauntering forward to meet Aizen and Ulquiorra, “that you have the opportunity to augment your arguably drab sense of style with a fashionable pair of - ” he thrust his hands up into the air, in preparation for shouting the last word - “ _glasses!_ ”

“Szayel,” said Aizen. Szayel Aporro didn’t seem to hear him; he was too busy laughing like a maniac again. “ _Szayel_ ,” he repeated. “ _SZAYEL!”_

“W-what?” Szayel stammered, seemingly taken aback. “Surely, I haven’t done anything wrong...”

Aizen sighed. “I swore when I left the Soul Society that I would never wear glasses again. Glasses were part of my former identity, and the man who possessed that identity is dead now. Besides,” he continued, frowning, “Kyoraku Shunsui once told me I looked good in glasses, and there’s absolutely no way I’m taking fashion advice from _him_.”

“I… I was unaware that my lord was once wont to lay spectacles upon his adorable nose,” said Szayel. “My sincerest apologies, Lord Aizen. I truly was attempting to be helpful.”

“Hey. What the hell’s goin’ on in here?” came an aggressive and snarling voice from the entranceway.

Aizen, Ulquiorra, and Szayel Aporro turned, not entirely surprised. Scowling and with his hands in his pockets and tapping his foot impatiently on the stone floor stood Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez, the very picture of demolition itself - if, that was, the very picture of demolition had bright blue hair and a gaping hole smack-dab in the middle of its rock-hard abs.

“It seems our lord is struggling a bit with his… contact lenses,” sighed Ulquiorra. “ _Grimmjow_.”

“Huh?”

“Contact lenses!” exclaimed Szayel, who had stopped laughing for the time being. “He refuses to wear glasses, so he insists upon struggling nigh on _endlessly_ with this absurd contact lens conundrum of his! A shame, really…”

“We’ve been waiting for you _forever_ , Aizen” said Grimmjow, advancing towards Aizen and curling his hands into menacing-looking fists.

“Then you can wait a bit longer,” Aizen snapped. He could scarcely believe that three Espadas, who were supposed to respect him and revere him as lord, were bearing witness to this monumental ordeal.

“We’re getting kinda _impatient_ , ya know,” Grimmjow said, his lip curling. “Say,” he added, “I could always pummel that second lens into your eye for ya. If you think it would save time.” He shrugged, not quite nonchalantly enough for Aizen’s liking.

“Grimmjow,” said Aizen, “that really won’t be necess - ”

“I heard our Lord Aizen was having some trouble with his eyes?” came a deep and rumbling voice from the entranceway.

Aizen, Ulquiorra, Szayel Aporro, and Grimmjow turned, not entirely surprised. Solid like a rock and with his thick brow cast downwards stood Zommari Rureaux, the Seventh Espada. “Perhaps I can help you, my lord,” he said. “As it happens, I am quite good with eyes.”

“ _No_ ,” groaned Aizen, whose patience was wearing very, very thin, “ _thank_ you, just let me - ” and he raised his hand to his left eye.  The four Espadas present watched with bated breath.

“If this doesn’t work out for you,” offered Szayel, “you would do well to keep in mind that there’s nothing _wrong_ with wearing glasses - ”

“Shut _up_ , Szayel Aporro,” came a subtly crazed voice from the entranceway. “No one _cares_.”

“Nnoitra?” shrieked Szayel. “When did _you_ get here?”

The thin, one-eyed Espada shrugged. “About the same time as Yammy and Halibel and Aaroniero and Barragan,” he said. “What was it, guys, about thirty seconds ago?” The four Espadas he’d named waved in unison from the shadows.

“Where’s Starrk?” asked Grimmjow.

“He would be here,” leered Nnoitra, “but he fell asleep at the table.”

“Typical,” muttered Ulquiorra.

“We all got pretty tired of waiting for you, Lord Aizen,” said Halibel, crossing her arms and staring pointedly at him.

“I - you all are - ” Aizen frowned again. “Since _when_ is it acceptable for all of you to barge in here uninvited?” he asked. He opened and closed his left eye at a rapid-fire pace, hoping to get the evil little contact lens to settle comfortably.

“You never expressly _forbade_ it,” pointed out Szayel. “We just assumed - ”

“ _Well_ . You know what they say about assuming things,” Aizen shot back. The Espadas all blinked at him. “...don’t you?” he faltered. “You know, that it makes an ass of… oh, never _mind_ ,” he finished, when they all simply continued to gape stupidly. “Back to the table, all of you,” ordered Aizen with a sweep of his hand. “I’ll join you in just a minute.”

“Promise?” inquired Ulquiorra, as sweetly as Ulquiorra could inquire anything.

“Get,” said Aizen through clenched teeth, “ _out_.”

And just like that, the Espadas vanished.

Aizen stared at himself in the mirror again. Two red-tinged eyes stared back this time.

Aizen sighed.

He missed his glasses.

“Well,” he said aloud, “it’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.”

And he opened the drawer containing a comb, a hairdryer, and a veritable wealth of styling products. Now that he could see worth a damn, it was time to brush his hair back.

Two hours later, Sōsuke Aizen emerged from his private chambers, looking very scary and very Lord-of-Hueco-Mundo-y indeed.

The Espadas, dead-eyed and unimpressed, gave him a welcome that was lackluster at best.

Aizen sighed again and resisted the urge to scratch an itch at his temple.

He missed his old hairstyle, too, dammit.

Maybe, he reflected, this whole endeavor was more trouble than it was worth.

**Author's Note:**

> Not much to say here... heh.  
> One time, not too long ago, I realized that if every any fictional character ever - ever! TV, plays, movies, books, video games, whatever - wears glasses, it's a choice on the part of the character's creator. Fictional character never actually *need* glasses, right? Like, animators have to actually choose to draw glasses on an animated character. Animated characters don't just incidentally have bad vision.  
> Clearly, Aizen's losing his glasses and changing his hair was symbolic of his betrayal and transformation and blah blah blah, but but I was thinking - yo, what if Aizen actually needed glasses?  
> Mainly, I just thought this would be a delightful little problem for Aizen to have. That's about it!  
> (Also, just so we're clear, I'm a big time member of the Aizen-looked-better-in-glasses club.)


End file.
